[That's all Giorno can think through any of this: what. Just what as Fugo says wicked things at a tempered and steady pace, one after another. They hit him in the gut over and over, an unrelenting assault of pretty teasing that leaves him a little trembly.]
[When did this become a thing Fugo knew how to do? He doesn't mind it, god no, but it's just--surprising, and--overwhelming to the point that he has to come up with a new word, because overwhelming isn't big enough.]
Fugo.
[It comes out on an exhale as he squirms and melts at the warmth of Fugo's breath under his ear, the wickedness and the sound of Fugo's voice; his arms tighten instinctively, pulling Fugo flush against him as he buries his face against his shoulder.]
Not fair . . . [And there's more he wants to say, probably, definitely, but he. Can't. Has temporarily forgotten how to. Is too breathless to think, too busy replaying over and over in his head as long as they're in places where only we can look at them to make words, so he just says Fugo's name again and hides and. Hyperventilates a little, his fingers digging unconsciously into Fugo's back as his heart feels like it's about to pound its way out of his chest.]
no subject
[That's all Giorno can think through any of this: what. Just what as Fugo says wicked things at a tempered and steady pace, one after another. They hit him in the gut over and over, an unrelenting assault of pretty teasing that leaves him a little trembly.]
[When did this become a thing Fugo knew how to do? He doesn't mind it, god no, but it's just--surprising, and--overwhelming to the point that he has to come up with a new word, because overwhelming isn't big enough.]
Fugo.
[It comes out on an exhale as he squirms and melts at the warmth of Fugo's breath under his ear, the wickedness and the sound of Fugo's voice; his arms tighten instinctively, pulling Fugo flush against him as he buries his face against his shoulder.]
Not fair . . . [And there's more he wants to say, probably, definitely, but he. Can't. Has temporarily forgotten how to. Is too breathless to think, too busy replaying over and over in his head as long as they're in places where only we can look at them to make words, so he just says Fugo's name again and hides and. Hyperventilates a little, his fingers digging unconsciously into Fugo's back as his heart feels like it's about to pound its way out of his chest.]